Chapter 9

Shortly after falling asleep, Anakin had been awoken by the same nightmare he had experienced the night before. Just like the previous night, he had awoken in the very early hours of the morning. Why? What does it mean? What is it even? Why? These questions raced through his mind, pounding at his conscience and irritating the heck out of him. Anakin Skywalker does not enjoy feeling confused and helpless, but this was how he felt when it came to the odd memory nightmare.

After nearly breaking the water glass that sat on the table in the midst of his frustration, Anakin decided it would be wiser if he instead contemplated the new information he had acquired regarding the Queen's slave. He would have liked to contact Obi-Wan and tell the wiser Jedi all about it, but he concluded that it would not be safe to do so. So he instead paced across his room, thinking.

So, Riksha Noabbaa had traveled here with her Master, Qyu-Lyen. She was the former apprentice of the only Jedi to ever leave the planet alive. And the only reason he left alive... Was because his former padawan stayed. Riksha had given up her life so that Qyu-Lyen could keep his. The strength of the bond between master and padawan, as well as some serious maturity and selflessness, had lead her to make that decision. Of course, Anakin would have done the same thing. Right? Maybe. To be honest, though he cared deeply for Obi-Wan, he feared that his own selfishness might get in the way if he were ever faced with such a situation. This thought made the young Knight feel uneasy, so he promptly resolved to just not think about it. Instead, he wandered out onto the balcony.

Luckily, a slight disturbance caught his attention. Riksha's awake. In fact, he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced over just in time to see her leap up onto the roof, only to come back down moments later and disappear into her room. Well that is certainly suspicious... My turn to do some snooping. Turning, Anakin strode back into his room and jumped up into the ventilation system. He did not know the layout of the system, but using his senses, he was able to trace Riksha's presence and use that to find his way.

Another nightmare. Riksha might not have been too worried about one, but a second occurring the next night was something to take note of. A month without the blurred memory, and here it was two nights in a row. I wonder... Was the memory triggered by the presence of another Force-sensitive? By interaction with another Jedi? Was it jogging her memory?

These questions gave her another idea. Riksha had heard stories of lost memories being restored when a Jedi touched their lightsaber after it had been lost. A prime example was Master Quinlan Vos.

She hadn't held a real lightsaber since that last mission. Sure, she had her fake training 'saber, but that wasn't the same as her genuine lightsaber. Why did I not think of this before? Perhaps the same thing that worked for Master Vos and others could work for me.

Eagerly, she changed out of her nightgown and into the same snooping clothes she had worn during her chat with Anakin. Then, not wanting to waste any time, she leapt up onto the roof and retrieved the fake lightsaber. If she was going to get her real one back, she would have to switch it with the fake. Currently, her real one was sitting in a trophy room, and the Queen would almost certainly notice if it suddenly went missing. She would not, however, know the difference between the real one and the fake.

With her plan worked out in her mind, Riksha set off through the air ducts. She knew the way to the trophy room; she had discovered it early on in her stay at the palace. There was one room that housed all the outfits and lightsabers of every Jedi killed on the unnamed planet. Riksha's own were included in that collection.

Since she had a mental map of the systems, it was easy for the young woman to reach the trophy room. She turned down the first right, then made a left, went down a slight decline, turned a corned, traveled straight for about three minutes, and made another left, then went straight at a three way intersection, turned right, went down another slight decline, made another left, and she was there. A metal grate rested in front if her, and she very carefully picked it up and placed it to the side. After being careful to check for any life forms that might be in the room (there were none, of course, as it was still very early morning) Riksha swung her upper body down into the room and left her legs hooked over the side of the vent and still in the air duct. She was now hanging, upside down, from the ceiling in the trophy room.

It was really an awful place, or at least for Riksha. The Jedi outfits hung from pegs in glass cases, and looked too clean to have ever been used by anyone. Then, there were the lightsabers from all these Jedi, perched on a decorative shelf. It was easy to locate her own, as it was the first one in the line of approximately half a dozen sparkling clean lightsabers.

The reason Riksha did not just jump down was because the room was laser trapped. They zigzagged all over the room, guarding some of the Queen's most prized possessions. The lasers did not reach the ceiling (or even within about four feet of it), since the room itself was about 10 feet tall. So, as long as she was up above the lasers, Riksha figured she should be able to execute her plan without a problem. Carefully extending her hand, Riksha lifted her lightsaber from the shelf. It dodged rather gracefully between the lasers, coming up to the vent. Cool metal soon reached her waiting hand, sending tingles up her arm as Riksha touched her lightsaber for the first time in two years. But this was not the time for marveling at the lost treasure. Quickly, she placed it next to her feet, then began to maneuver the fake into its old resting place.

After successfully getting lost, Anakin finally closed in on Riksha's presence. Closer, closer, there! He spotted her, and she appeared to be hanging down from the vent. What was she doing? At this hour, no less? Hardly daring to take a breath for fear of alerting her to his presence, he stayed several meters away. He planned to watch and find out what exactly she was up to. Getting found out was not a part of his improvised plan.

A faint clink of metal against metal resounded through the duct, barely audible but clear as day to the Knight's fine tuned senses. A lightsaber? Just after the lightsaber was placed in the duct, another was lifted and lowered into the room. Hmm, some sort of swap, I assume. But why? Anakin needed to see more of what was going on. Noticing another vent nearby, he scooted towards it, hoping that it was connected to the same room. But as he crawled towards it, his boot bumped into the side of the duct, causing a teeny bit of noise. Seconds later, a much louder noise filled his ears, and his heart nearly stopped. Oh no.

Riksha was maneuvering the fake 'saber into the room, carefully dodging the lasers, when a small noise caused her to break her focus. The lightsaber swayed, crossing one of the laser beams, and causing an alarm to sound. This louder wailing caused her to loose her balance completely, and she tumbled from the vent and landed on the floor of the room. She did not quite have the time to use the Force to adjust her angle, and so her landing was less than preferable. She sat up, pressing her palm to the side of her head as she did so, and then shaking it to clear her vision after the rough landing. A pair of guards came running in, and found Riksha sitting there. Blast. I'm caught.The lightsaber rested on the ground, a few meters away. One of the guards noticed it, and sneered.

"You wanted to be reunited with your lightsaber, huh?" He stated, almost amused. "It looks like you're about to become acquainted with a lightwhip instead."

One guard roughly yanked her to her feet, while the other placed the lightsaber back in its place. Neither noticed that the lightsaber was a fake, and neither looked upwards. If they had, they would have seen that the grate had been removed from the vent, as Riksha had not gotten the chance to place it back into position. They also would have seen Anakin, who was peering down through the opening with a panicked look on his face.

As the guards brought Riksha out of the room, she knew there was no escaping this punishment. What could she do? She should have had better sense than to think she could actually pull off the 'saber switch. One guard activated an electrostaff, jabbing Riksha with it to keep her moving. She shied away from the electricity, picking up her pace slightly. She knew where they were going. Down to the dungeon, where the more severe punishments were carried out.

Riksha had only once been down to the dungeon, and it had only been to spend a night in a cell, after she defied the Queen. It wasn't that bad of a punishment, though it was cold and dark and damp. Now, as the three entered the dungeon level, she observed more of the area. The floor was made of cold stones, as were the walls. Bits of moss grew here and there, and the only lighting came from a few torches fastened to the stone. After walking down an ominous hallway, Riksha found that the guards had taken her to a large room. It was circular in shape, with doors of metal bars placed in the walls. These opened up into the small, dark, foul-smelling cells.

The dungeon was not used for much, since it was rather old fashioned. Prisoners and criminals were kept on the detention level in a separate tower, which housed a much more high-tech facility. That included reinforced walls and ray-shields. The dungeon was only really used to scare young slaves, as it was much spookier than the detention wing.

It took only a moment for these observations to be made and processed, and so it was also not long before Riksha began to get an idea of what her punishment was going to be. In the center of the room stood a stout wooden frame, and on the wall hung a cruel looking whip. A lightwhip, with half a dozen harsh cords attached, to inflict seven hits at once instead of a single one.

Riksha was forced onto her knees, and her wrists chained to the horizontal top bar of the frame. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the guards remove the whip from the wall. It unfurled, like seven serpents hungry for the blood of their prey. Riksha took a deep breath, bracing herself for what was to come.

But first, the guards did a bit of gambling.

"I bet she lasts five blows, with this whip," said the first guard. "That's about the same as 35 with a regular whip."

"Maybe if she was one of the weaker slaves," responded the second, "But she's a Jedi. I say she lasts ten."

"How much are you going to bet?"

The two debated the prices they were putting on their bets, before the second guard stepped towards the slave and raised the whip.

One.

Riksha clenched her teeth together, as seven stinging pink lines appeared on her back. Of course, they were not visible beneath her shirt, but she could clearly feel them.

Two.

Seven new marks crossed her back, the pain doubling wherever they overlapped with the places that had been hit first.

Three. Four.

She gripped the bar tightly with her hands, as if this would relieve the steadily growing and intensifying pain. She could feel that her shirt was beginning to stick to her back- and not because of sweat.

Five.

Well, the first guard had lost the bet by now. Riksha was still very much conscious, though her back felt as though it were burning. Red marks were clearly visible, staining the back of her shirt.

Six. Seven.

Now, when the whip struck, little red beads jumped up and then fell to the floor. Riksha's breath grew a bit labored, as she refused to make any noise. The satisfaction of hearing her yelp in pain was not something she was going to allow the guards.

After about the seventh or eight blow, Riksha stopped counting. She tried to ignore the pain- she had endured torture before, on the occasion that she and/or her master were captured. Pain is not foreign to a Jedi. But that didn't mean the whipping didn't hurt, and it was difficult to ignore. In fact, it hurt a lot. Soon, her vision began to blur, and the pain of the blows began to feel distant. She struggled to remain conscious. They had probably surpassed ten blows by now, (supplemented with the occasional jab with an electrostaff) and she could barely hear the mumbling of new bets being made. The voices sounded faint, and far away...

One of the guards coiled up the whip, and placed it back on the wall, while the other cut the chains which bound the unconscious slave's wrists to the frame. She fell forward, crumpling to the ground.

"Perhaps we overdid it. You don't think the Queen will get mad, do you?" Asked the first guard, the one who had made the lower bet.

"Nah, the slave will heal quickly. It's another one of those weird abilities. Jedi heal real fast."

A door slammed shut, as the guards exited the room and swung the metal bars into place as they left.

This is my fault.

All my fault.

I shouldn't have followed her.

My fault.

Anakin had watched from the vents as Riksha was discovered and taken away to be punished. Then, he had promptly exited the duct and returned to his room, where he now was fretting about what she might endure. She was going to receive a whipping, and it was his fault for startling her and making her loose her balance. If he had just stayed in his room, this wouldn't be happening.

He had thought that he felt guilty when the young Togruta was denied dinner as a punishment for Anakin not being on time to breakfast. Well, that guilt was nothing compared to what he felt now. One missed meal pales in comparison to a full blown whipping. He wasn't sure just how severe the punishment was going to be, but he was fairly certain that trying to steal a lightsaber would not go over well, and was likely to warrant something harsh.

And it's all my fault.

Well, now you've seen the darker, crueler side of this planet. So far I haven't written much about the less pleasant aspects of the society, but I figured it was important for them to be shown. Now you also see why I gave this a T rating.

I'm glad you liked the last chapter. If you all think it's good the way it is, perhaps I won't change it. :)